Episode Details

Thank you Ivy for the very sweet gift today :)Here are the stories for today. They're dark and fun.Good evening! It's Christmas week and time to be very merry and spooky! This week in Sandcastle people and the supernatural alike like to put aside their differences and magically get along like something beautiful in the air while they all sit and listen to the terrifying and spooky stories told on the KSND radio waves just like you're listening right now. So grab that glass of wine and a nice warm blanket and listen to these spooky Christmas stories.First I'd like to thank the listeners of the program and Patreon members including Ivy Iverson, madjoe, P.A. Nightmares, John Newby, Patrick, and 933TheVolt.com. If you would like to support the program please visit www.scarystorytime.com/support where you can find links to merchandise such as t-shirts and mugs, Venmo, PayPal, Patreon, and even a cute miniature figurine. And thank you Ivy for the wonderful gift :)Be sure to visit my youtube channel at Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time on Saturday nights for a livestream chat where you can ask questions, listen to stories, and other fun topics. Subscribe at www.youtube.com/spookybooscarystorytime and be sure to hit that notification bell.Now let's begin...A Painted ChristmasPatrick Finn arrived home from his Christmas conquests, beating out the snowstorm by mere miles, mere minutes. He felt not only the foreboding presence of a hazardous blizzard, but also that of something else. Something darker. It felt as if it resonated not only within his soul, but also within the souls of those around him, within the very ground itself.Patrick had never bothered to check, but he was sure that beneath the grass and soil of Winter Harbor, Maine, there in hungered a gaping mouth or a chasm yearning for the flesh of the innocent, and anchored to the physical world only by a desire to seem normal. It had not yet been appeased because the residents of Winter Harbor were all but innocent.Patrick had moved to Winter Harbor hoping to escape the despondency and despair he had felt in his hometown, Belmont, Maine. So far these feelings had only amplified, magnified, by both the wintry death that he felt tip toeing in the town’s midst and the lingering scent of paint that seemed to permeate every building in the city. It was as if the town was constantly being repainted in some sort of halfhearted attempt to cover something up.Still, he felt it necessary to stay, so as not to make matters worse for his wife, whom he barely saw anymore, and his son, who always seemed so distant. He and his wife were going through a rough time in their marriage and their son was feeling its effects. It was akin to what one may feel after a tumultuous earthquake. Patrick felt that he had to make it up to his son, so he went out and bought him the most expensive and extravagant thing he could get his hands on this late in the shopping season, a brand new video game system. He had assured his son that, even though he had acted out often this year, Santa would bring him something good.Throughout these charades, Patrick felt empty at the prospect of shopping for a boy that he knew nothing about, a boy whose existence was forgotten every so often.On the Eve of Christmas, Patrick arrived home before the snowstorm and quickly crept into the garage to wrap the present and place it under the tree. It was in this garage that he often felt abrupt changes, as if within its small space, it contained secrets beyond human comprehension. The musky smell of the old holiday decorations coupled with the omnipresent scent of fresh paint, varnish, and gasoline all seemed to meld into one personified force, whispering sweet nothings to Patrick as he exited his car. This caused him to shudder heavily, as if beset by a fit of delirium tremens. He shrugged off the dull headache and dry mouth be